


Drown and Adapt

by Yakarmi



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AOT Season 4 Anime Spoilers, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Comfort, Emotions, M/M, Men Crying, Sad Jean Kirstein
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:09:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29769789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yakarmi/pseuds/Yakarmi
Summary: When all is said and done, another battle over and more lives lost, how do you move forward? How do you bear the burden of the past and plan for the harsh realities of the future?
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 15
Kudos: 51





	Drown and Adapt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Steinbee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steinbee/gifts).



> My first and, by any immediate plans, only Jean/Eren fic. Based off a request from Steinbee for an AU where Eren stays with the rest of the Scouts and is a good, aligned character.
> 
> Marked for graphic depictions of violence just in case.

The stench of blood always seemed to cling to Jean. It was an invisible stain that haunted him, followed him. Lingering on his clothes. Filling his nose. Death hung heavy over his head. Screams of comrades and enemies alike echoing in his ears and dulling his senses.

Jean rubbed his hands along his face, falling onto the open couch and laying there, eyes closed in hopes for a moment of peace. Perhaps now, he could finally find it. No one should bother him here, they were all too busy eating, strengthening themselves after another day full of blood and death.

Once, beating on the human-sized punching bags and sparing with his partners seemed pointless and unnecessarily pessimistic. Little did he know. Little did anyone know.

Or maybe that was false. Because those punching bags existed for a reason, and hand to hand combat was never taken out of the curriculum. Someone had to have known, had an idea. He had a feeling it all went back to Erwin. The enigmatic man always seemed to have a perspective just a bit deeper than everyone else’s. An air of knowing. A confidence that convinced so many to follow him into the jaws of hungry titans.

If only 15 year old Jean, who thought the world was good and bad, black and white, humans and titans, knew the horrors that awaited him only 4 years later. This war was worse than their struggle against the titans. Back then the driving force was only survival, now revenge colored their once pure intentions.

Even so, Jean couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision to join the Scouts.

That night, right after graduation, that was what started it. The burning anger and passion in Eren’s eyes that Jean had always tried to ignore broke a crack into him. Marco’s death split it wide open. And suddenly Jean was riding outside the walls and seeing an entirely different, bleak world.

A cruel world that was forever changing full of people who were just trying their best to adapt.

“You didn’t eat.” The voice entered through the doorway, pushing out any notions of peace Jean thought he might be able to find. Eren, the overprotective, mothering asshole, had found him.

Jean snorted but didn’t open his eyes, he rolled over so he was facing the back of the couch. There was the sound of footsteps entering the room, padding over to where Jean lay. The cushion dipped by his legs as the nuisance sat next to him.

“I brought you food,” Eren tried again.

“I’m not hungry,” Jean finally said, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.

“But they served meat today. I was able to put some aside for you and everything. Even fooled Sasha,” Eren teased. Jean felt his hand land on the outside of his thigh, fingers crawling up to lightly tickle him. He jerked and swatted Eren’s hand away.

Above him, Eren laughed. It was deep, warm and comforting in a way that Jean hated. When Jean had asked Eren all those years ago to give him a reason to trust him, to die for him, Jean never expected him to take his heart as well. To walk away with it, like it was nothing, and make it all okay with one simple, lovely, tender laugh.

Asshole.

“Just give it to Sasha.”

“I didn’t risk my hands for you to just give it up.”

Jean sighed, finally opening his eyes and turning around, accepting that Eren wasn’t leaving anytime soon. He narrowed his eyes at the man stealing precious pillow room he could be using for laying down and feeling bad for himself. 

Eren was looking down at him, bright eyes tender and smiling. In his hands, he held a plate piled high with mashed potatoes, peas and a few slices of beef. He definitely had to fight for that.

Despite the new stretches of land freed up for Eldian expansion beyond the walls, meat was still a scarcity only afforded for special occasions. In this case, it was after coming back from another hard-fought battle. A battle only half a day old. It made Jean’s stomach turn and he had to look away.

“That’s your own fault,” Jean complained. “No one told you to.” 

Eren sighed and leaned over Jean, resting the plate onto a small side table. He placed a large hand firmly onto his thigh.

“You have to eat. And I’m not leaving until you do.”

“Then I guess we’re both going to die here,” Jean said. The little guilty voice in the back of his head was telling him that he was being overdramatic. That Eren was for once being kind of nice. He ignored it in favor of raising an eyebrow in challenge.

“I’m fine with that.” Eren turned himself to lean against the other side of the sofa and crossed his arms. He hefted his booted feet next to Jean’s shoulder, resting the dirty sole against his shirt.

Jean jumped back, face contorted in disgust, and shoved Eren’s legs off.

“Fuck you,” Jean spat, finally sitting up. “If Levi saw that we’d both be scrubbing this couch for hours.”

Eren just shrugged, his nonchalance only betrayed by the smirk on his face.

“We have time. We’re going to be here until we die, right?”

And of course Jean’s stomach took the initiative to growl at the exact time. Eren’s smirk widened in victory.

“I’m still not eating,” Jean protested quickly.

“Uh huh,” Eren said doubtfully and reached for the plate again. He took the fork and shoveled a bite of mashed potato on it. “So, what you’re saying is that you don’t want this?”

Eren, the bastard, brought the food up to his mouth and slowly took a bite, moaning as the food hit his tongue. He pulled the prongs of the metal instrument out from his mouth slowly. Jean gulped, eyes glued to the way it slid out from between his lips. He found himself unconsciously licking his own.

“It’s quite good,” Eren commented, readying another bite. “Niccolo is an excellent chef. Added that new spice, garlic, to it. Absolutely,” Eren ate the next bite, repeating the same suggestive motions. “Delicious.”

Jean took a deep breath in and rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure Sasha would love it,” Jean said, turning away before Eren could try to seduce him into eating again. “Go give it to her.”

“But I think you want it,” Eren said, his voice right next to his ear. Jean jerked around quickly, finding the fork full of food almost dangerously close to his face.

“You’re going to take my eye out.”

“Not if you act like a nice little soldier and just eat some.”

And then the fork was moving closer and Jean didn’t try to avoid it, staring at the white mound of probably delicious and garlicky mashed potatoes as it came closer. When the fork was a mere centimeter from his lips, Jean finally gave in and opened his mouth. Eren gently fed him and damn it, he was right. The potatoes were delicious and the beef was probably even better.

Jean’s attention zeroed in on the plate of food in Eren’s hands. Giving up his pride, Jean held a hand out.

“Fine, give it here.” Eren laughed again, but gave the food up easily. Jean rightened himself to sit properly on the couch and started eating. Damn Niccolo’s fabulous cooking and damn Eren’s need to provide for him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jean swallowed down and mouthful of spuds and beef.

“Talk about what?”

“The reason you skipped dinner. We won again.”

Jean sighed and opted to eat more instead of answering. They sat in silence, Eren studying his face. A few minutes go by and the plate is nearly empty before Jean caves under the invisible pressure of Eren’s eyes.

“I just don’t think the death of the enemy is a reason to celebrate,” Jean explained and looked over. Eren hummed, looking towards the ceiling as if to process what he just said.

“You feel guilty,” Eren concluded, green eyes coming back down to bear into Jean’s with an intensity that made him want to turn away. But he didn’t. He stayed there and held it.

“None of us signed up for the military expecting we’d have to kill people.”

“They turned us against one another, Jean,” Eren argued. Jean sighed, already knowing the argument, and turned back to the food. Best to eat it before it got cold. “They sent other Eldians, our brethren, to the island for us to kill one another. They’re responsible for the murder of hundreds of thousands of us.”

Jean’s hand clenched around his fork and he stabbed a pea violently.

“And they think we did the same,” Jean responded, meeting Eren’s eyes fiercely. “And we don’t know enough to refute it. It’s a circle of violence, Eren. There’s no end and I- I just don’t see why it has to be there at all.”

Eren’s eyes scanned Jean’s face and he nodded once. Sharply.

“It’d be a lot easier if you stopped thinking like that, you know,” Eren said, looking almost pityingly at him. Jean hated it. He put the plate down and tensed, expecting a repeat of their same old fight on morality.

“I don’t want murder to be easy for me.”

But Eren, so unpredictable since the discovery of the contents of the basement all those years ago, didn’t want to fight.

Instead, he leant down to bring their lips together. Just once, quickly. A chaste kiss that consisted of just a short touch of the lips. With it, a warmth spread through Jean and his muscles relaxed.

“And that’s what makes you better than me,” Eren said, the blue green ocean of his eyes looking upon him sadly. Jean didn’t know if the emotion was meant for himself or Eren.

“You know I waited years to hear you say that,” Jean teased, but Eren just kissed him again. And this time Jean was ready, pushing into it with more force than Eren to deepen it because it’d been too long since the last time. Because Eren was here feeding him. Because no matter how much Eren killed, he somehow never tasted or smelt like blood like Jean did.

Eren moaned and Jean wrapped his arms around the strong back, one hand tangling in his newly grown-out hair. Jean tugged at it and Eren pushed at Jean until they had collapsed onto the sofa, into the same spot Jean had been when Eren first entered.

This time, however, Eren erased all thoughts of the past, of war and of death, from Jean’s brain with his tongue. Probing and sweeping as if to find Jean’s issues and steal them for himself. Like always. It was a beautiful relief and Jean let himself be devoured under the heat of Eren’s skin until Eren broke them apart. Jean’s mouth instinctually tried to follow only to be stopped by Eren’s words.

“Jean,” Eren whispered, breath ghosting over his lips. Hot and perfect.

“What?” Jean whispered back and looked up to meet Eren’s ocean blue-green eyes, hoping to drown again. The other man was watching him with a somber expression on his face, the delicate skin between his eyebrows bunched as he fought to speak. Jean started to sober up from the brief rush of passion.

“When it’s time, take my titan. Please.”

Jean pulled back, looking at his lover in shock. His lover who was asking Jean to  _ eat _ him. He opened his mouth to ask  _ why _ but Eren was already explaining.

“You’re the only one I know I can trust, Jean.” Eren leaned forward more, arms fully caging Jean against the sofa. “You are good. So good. Better than me.”

Jean’s took a deep breath in, studying Eren’s face. He was serious. Not a single crinkle bringing a mischievous outline to his eyes, no twitch of his lips to indicate a joke.

“Please.” Eren’s eyes softened, mouth turning up into a sad smile. Small, not showing off his brilliant white teeth. “You’re reliable, smart, and I know you’ll never abuse the power. You won’t let the power get to your head. You’ll choose a good successor.”

Jean squeezed his eyes shut, sadness burning the back of his eyelids. A single tear leaked out and a large thumb gently wiped across Jean’s cheek, drying it. But then a new drop fell onto his nose and he knew it wasn’t his. It was Eren’s.

He looked up.

“Please,” Eren begged. Eyes swimming as if they themselves were about to drown. And if they did, they’d probably take Jean with them. Another tear fell onto Jean’s face and broke him. It was time for him to adapt.

“I- yeah. Yes. I’ll inherit your titan.”

Eren lunged down and kissed him again, pressing the back of his head deep into the couch. Jean felt his own tears start to start to leak and they mixed with the ones now falling freely from Eren’s eyes and blended into their kiss.

It made Jean kiss Eren harder, pulling him down towards him. The salt only made it sweeter and more desperate.

After a few minutes, Eren pulled away panting. The tears had stopped flowing and water marks stained his cheeks. He rested his forehead on Jean’s, his long hair falling to brush against the sides of Jean’s face.

“Promise me,” Eren whispered, his voice breathy and choked. His eyes, bright green and intense, searched Jean’s face. When he didn’t respond immediately, Eren’s hand squeezed at Jean’s shoulder. “ _ Please _ .”

Jean answered without thinking, almost as if hypnotized .

“I promise.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Kudos and comments always appreciated!


End file.
